


Twenty Years and One Day

by coraxes



Series: Author's Favorites [7]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Season/Series 06, kid from the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 09:57:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11895300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coraxes/pseuds/coraxes
Summary: They'd done it--escaped from the prison world together, leaving Kai behind.  But the Mystic Falls they returned to was not the Mystic Falls they left.Apparently, even twenty years in the future, Bonnie and Damon are still managing to get kidnapped.





	Twenty Years and One Day

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this on and off for...an embarrassing amount of time. I think I started when S7 was airing, but the more shit happened in canon, the less motivation I felt to write.
> 
> But it's DONE, finally, and I can move on with my life.
> 
> Thank you so much to [lightninginmyeyes](http://lightninginmyeyes.tumblr.com)\--this fic would be much worse without her input.

Dying had felt like being swept under by a current.  When the magic of the Ascendant swirled around Bonnie, it felt like she was rising to the surface.  Images of other dimensions flashed in front of her eyes, faces and rooms and wide open country, in a swirl of blue-white light--

Then her feet hit solid ground again, and she took a deep breath of cool air.  Bonnie’s heart still pounded with adrenaline from Kai’s unexpected attack, and she could have _sworn_ she saw him move again before the spell took hold, but it didn’t matter now.

“We made it,” she said, grinning up at Damon.  “We actually _did it._ ”

Damon grinned back at her, soft in a way she never expected from him.  He squeezed her hands where they rested under the Ascendant.  She waited for the surge of awkwardness to hit them, like it had once they arrived in the prison world, but--this didn’t feel awkward.  It just felt _right._ “Nah, Bonnie.   _You_ did it.”

Her heart lurched.  Somehow he made her name sound like a term of endearment.

And then--

“Holy _shit,_ ” someone said.

Bonnie whirled toward the voice, clutching the Ascendant protectively.  The speaker was a girl, maybe fourteen or fifteen, sitting on the ground.  Her skin was the same shade as Bonnie’s, her hair black and in short curls.  A circle of colored sand and still-burning incense surrounded her, and in her open hands was another Ascendant.  “Holy shit,” she said again, eyes wide.

Damon stepped in front of Bonnie, crossing his arms, and she rolled her eyes in a mixture of affection and annoyance.  “Who are you?  And what are you doing with that?”

“I’m, uh.”  The girl stood, brushing the dirt from her jeans.  Her eyes darted between her own Ascendant and Bonnie’s.   “I was just trying to do a spell, and I think I…messed up, a little bit.  You just got out of the prison world, right?  The one with Kai?”

“What do you mean, messed up?”  Bonnie asked, brushing past Damon’s elbow.  The girl hardly seemed like a threat, especially after everything they’d been through.  “How do you know about the prison world?  Who _are_ you?”

The girl rolled her eyes.  They were bloodshot, Bonnie noticed, like she’d been crying, and the irises were a familiar pale blue.  “Don’t freak out,” she said.  “I think I might have accidentally time-travelled you guys.  I was trying to find you-- _my_ you, I mean, and I thought I could use this thing--”  she waved the Ascendant-- “for teleportation, right?  Only I guess since you were using the same thing, my thing found _your_ thing while you were travelling, and yanked you here.”

Bonnie stared, dumbstruck, as her brain tried to follow that train of words.

“That was a lot of things,” Damon said.

Bonnie took a deep breath.   _This is_ way _too much bullshit for my first minute out of a prison dimension._ “No, that makes sense,” she said slowly.  (“In what dimension?” Damon muttered.)  “But what do you mean, _time travel_?”

“The prison dimension thing happened in…2014, 2013, right?  Somewhere around there?”  The girl bit her lip and pulled a small device out of her pocket.  It was paper-thin, so much so that Bonnie didn’t recognize it as a phone until she tapped on the screen.  “Well…”

She held out the phone.  Under the time were the words _May 10, 2034._

“What the _hell,_ ” said Damon.  He grabbed the phone from the girl’s hand and glared at it, like it would make the date change.

“Don’t freak out!” said the girl.  “Look, you guys-- _my_ you guys--have told me about this.  We all figure out a way to get you back.  We just…need to find the you in the present.”

“And how do you _know_ us?”  Bonnie snapped.  She was _beyond_ fed up with the drama her life kept throwing at her.  Out of one magical frying pan, into a bonfire.  “Who are you?”

The girl sighed and stared up at the sky.  She looked even younger than Bonnie had been when she got her powers, and a spike of regret went through her for yelling at the kid.  Having all that power shoved onto her shoulders at sixteen was bad enough.  “You usually call me Millie,” she said.  Then she looked back at Bonnie and Damon.  “I can explain the rest at my house, okay?”

Bonnie glanced at Damon, biting her lip.   _Do we trust her?_  He quirked an eyebrow.   _Your call, witchy._

“Fine,” Bonnie said.

Millie’s eyebrows rose.  “Good to know you’ve always done that,” she said.  “C’mon, the car’s this way.”

“Are you even old enough to drive?” Bonnie asked, frowning.

“I got here, didn’t I?”  Millie smirked back at her, an achingly familiar expression.

_No way.  Damon couldn’t have…_

Bonnie took a deep breath and, Damon behind her, followed Millie out of the forest.

* * *

“I have to say,” said Damon, “this was not how I pictured our triumphant homecoming.”

Mystic Falls hadn’t changed much in twenty years, unsurprisingly.  The sidewalks were a little nicer, the cars were oddly sleek, but Bonnie still recognized most of the buildings.  She stared at the people on the sidewalk as they drove by, looking for familiar faces.

“What are you hoping for?  A _yay, they’re not dead_ parade?”  She’d died enough times to learn that once the hugs were over with, life mostly went on as normal.

Damon snorted.  “An actual _reunion._  I have my speech to Elena all worked out…”

In the front seat, Millie snorted.

Damon’s eyes narrowed.  “What’s so funny?”

She cleared her throat.  “You’ll see when we get to my house.”

Bonnie rested her chin on her hand and watched Millie in the rearview mirror.  Her skin prickled, and she knew without looking that Damon was staring at her; his looks were so intense she felt them like a physical presence.

She glanced over at him, raised an eyebrow, and jerked her head towards Millie.  Damon shrugged and looked away, pursing his lips.  Bonnie rolled her eyes.  Fine, if _that_ was how he wanted to play it--he obviously had a guess about what was going on.  Maybe it was too difficult to get across without the kid noticing.

“So,” Bonnie asked, “what happened to us here, anyway?  Did we end up in another dimension again?”

Millie bit her lip.  She was driving surprisingly well; it probably helped that the speed limit was twenty-five miles per hour.  “I don’t think so.  The only thing I can think of is, you pissed off this group called the Order of Taraka.  You’ve been picking off their members for months.  I thought maybe they took you, and you’ve used the Ascendant to get people back before…”  She trailed off.  “I guess I was wrong.”  Her eyes welled with tears, and the car swerved threateningly.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.”  Bonnie had leaned forward, her hand resting on Millie’s arm, before she realized what she was doing.  She couldn’t help it; whatever was going on, Millie reminded her too much of herself, scared and alone and trying to figure out what to do with her magic.  “The Ascendants work to bring people back from other dimensions; it doesn’t teleport people.  But it was a good shot.  Besides, you said your Bonnie and Damon had told you about this, right?”

Millie nodded and swiped at her eyes.

“Then it all works out.  You did fine, Millie.”  She squeezed Millie’s arm.

Taking a deep breath, Millie focused on the road again.  “Thanks,” she said.  Then, “We’re almost there.”

Bonnie leaned back in her seat.  She wondered if the Bonnie in the future helped Millie with her magic, too.  Maybe she was a Bennett, even…

Damon was staring at her again.  “What?” she snapped.

Damon’s jaw clenched, and he shook his head.  “I’ll tell you if the kid doesn’t,” he said.

Finally they pulled up into a familiar drive.  Bonnie stared up at the boarding house, frowning, as Millie parked.

She looked up again at the rear view mirror and met Millie’s familiar bright blue eyes.  And--no.  No way.  This couldn’t be possible.  “You live here?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.  Because--she shouldn’t jump to conclusions.  Maybe Millie was adopted, maybe Stefan had…

“Yeah,” said Millie.  She took a deep breath.  “My name is Emilia Bennett-Salvatore.  Your daughter.”

“ _What_ .”  There was no fucking way that could be true.  For one, Damon couldn’t even--and even if he could, how could _they_ have--No.  No way.  Bonnie stared at Millie, who was half-turned around, biting her lip.  “That’s not possible.  Vampires can’t even have kids.”  She directed the last sentence at Damon.

He didn’t look half as unsettled as Bonnie felt; his eyes were narrowed, his arms crossed over his chest like he was holding himself together.  “I shouldn’t be able to,” he agreed, “but she’s not human.  Not completely.”

Millie smiled weakly.  “Guilty,” she said, and hooked one finger over her upper lip, pulling it up to expose elongated canines.  “There was some kind of spell thing you guys did before I was born.  Apparently I was a side effect.  I wasn’t there, so I don’t know.”

“Yeah, that’s convenient,” said Damon.  He shot Bonnie a look, like, _are you buying this?_

She didn’t know.  Bonnie could accept time travel; it was just another weird addition onto her weird life.  Meeting her future daughter?  Sure, why not.

Meeting her future daughter _with Damon_?

“You know this is hard to believe,” said Bonnie, trying to keep her voice steady even as her heartbeat sped up, panic building for no reason she could fathom.  Damon looked frustratingly calm; she knew that look.  He was digging his heels in, deciding something was impossible because he didn’t want to believe it.  Which was super flattering, in this case.

Millie nodded.  “Yeah.  You-- _my_ you--said you wouldn’t believe me.  Even though I look like you, I’m half-witch, half-vampire, and I live at your house.”

Put together like that, Bonnie had to admit she had a point.

“We don’t know that you live here,” said Damon stubbornly.  “Prove it.”

“Fine, Dad, jeez,” said Millie.  She slammed the car door open, every ounce a petulant teenager, and Bonnie was so caught up staring at her maybe-daughter that she almost missed the way Damon stiffened at being called _Dad._

“You okay?” Bonnie asked quietly as Millie stomped up the driveway.

He shook his head.  “This isn’t possible,” Damon said flatly, and shoved the door open.

So that was how it was going to be.

Bonnie got out of the car and followed Millie up the drive, half her brain noting the subtle changes in the boarding house as she went.  This whole situation was complicated enough without having to worry about Damon’s feelings on top of her own.

 _Because you’re actually dealing with your feelings right now?_ said a voice in her brain that sounded suspiciously like her vampire best friend/pain-in-the-ass, which Bonnie ignored.

Millie unlocked the boarding house door.  “Here,” she said, gesturing as she talked.  “Family pictures over the fireplace, photo albums in the cabinet.  Your bedroom is upstairs.  Let me know when I’ve convinced you.”

If sarcasm was hereditary, Bonnie thought, she was pretty convinced already.  Damon took one look around the room and then zoomed up the stairs.

Millie jumped.

“Aren’t you used to that?” Bonnie asked, frowning.

She shook her head.  “I’ve seen other vampires do it, but Dad can’t.”  At Bonnie’s look, she sighed and elaborated.  “The ritual that let me exist…I don’t know how much I should tell you, okay?  But it’s like, you got a little more vampirey, and he got a little more human.  You guys aren’t half-and-half like I am, but he lost some of his superpowers.”

Bonnie blinked at the revelation.  Damon being human she could deal with, but her being a vampire…she shivered.  Sure, with most of her friends being vampires these days, she had grown more comfortable around the things.  But her friends were the exception, not the rule.

Millie said future-Bonnie wasn’t even _half_ -vampire, though.  Maybe she just had pointy teeth.

Bonnie stalked over to the family portraits Millie had pointed out in the living room, putting the image of herself as a vampire out of her head.

The mantelpiece above the fireplace showed more than just the Bennett-Salvatore family.  In one photo, Stefan and Caroline sat together on a porch swing, matching rings on their fingers.  There was Elena with a man Bonnie didn’t recognize, Matt with a wife and child she didn’t know, Tyler with his arm around another man’s waist.  Her eyebrows raised; that was new.

But on one corner of the mantelpiece, the one her eyes kept being drawn towards, were several pictures of more immediate interest.  One showed Damon sleeping with a baby tucked against his chest, one hand outstretched to hold Bonnie’s where she lay in a hospital bed.  Another frame held a collage of moments, with Millie and without--a selfie of the two of them on top of a mountain; the three of them around a bonfire; a clear first-day-of-school picture; Millie’s hand cupped around a flame while she beamed at the camera.

There was only one wedding photo.  It was an obvious candid, and if Bonnie wasn’t wearing a white dress in the picture she wouldn’t have realized it was from their wedding at all.  In it, she sat on Damon’s lap with his arm curled around her waist.  Her eyes were closed while she laughed at something, and he was just watching her with a soft smile on his face.

It was unbelievable.  Or it should have been.

“Okay,” said Bonnie.  “Consider me convinced.”

“Really?” said Damon, so suddenly Bonnie jumped; she’d been too preoccupied to notice him coming in.  “That’s all it takes?”  She turned to face him as he started to pace, gesturing wildly.  “We live in a world with _magic,_ Bon, those could _easily_ be faked.  For all we know, this is another prison dimension!”

“Your idea of prison is being married to me?  Gee, thanks,” Bonnie snapped before she thought better of it.  This was _textbook_ asshole Damon--see something that hit too close to home, act out because he would rather be angry than vulnerable.  Too bad for him she didn’t feel like humoring his dick mood.  She took a deep breath and tried to pick a rational response; one of them should be thinking clearly.  “If this is an illusion, it’s a very big, very _clean_ one.  I can’t sense anything magical about it.  When you start thinking that way you might as well decide that we’re living in the Matrix.”

Damon still paced, ignoring her.

“Unless you found something upstairs that proves this is fake,” Bonnie prompted.

He stopped abruptly, shook his head, and snorted before beginning to pace again.

“Want to share with the class?”

“It smelled like us,” said Damon with a smile that was too unhinged to be seductive.  “Gotta admit, this one’s got the details right.”

“So what’s the problem?” Bonnie snapped.

Then he was right in front of her, leaning in her face.  “The _problem_ is that we’re in a future where we’re apparently playing happy family with our half-vampire kid.  How is that not a problem for you?”

 _It_ is _,_ Bonnie wanted to shout.  She clenched her fists.  It had been a long time since she had hurt Damon, but with him leaning over her like this, all angry predator, the magic leapt to life in her veins.

But there was a teenage girl watching them.  Bonnie could still see her out of the corner of her eye.  And no kid should have to see her parents fight like that, no matter how screwed-up the situation was.

“Don’t act like you’re the only one with mommy or daddy issues here,” Bonnie said, fighting to keep her voice calm.  “We can deal with those later.  Right now, we’ve got a kidnapping to deal with.  We figure that out first.”

Damon stared at her for a moment and then deflated.  Tension leaked from his shoulders and clenched jaw.  He nodded.

She turned to Millie, who was watching them with wide eyes.  “Have you tried a tracking spell?”

“Duh,” said Millie.  “It didn’t work.”

Bonnie set her face into a smile.  “Well, let’s see what you tried.  I know a few more tricks.  Damon, why don’t you find a grimoire?”

“Mom keeps them locked up in the library,” Millie volunteered.  “I can show you--”

“I know where the library is,” Damon grumbled, and disappeared, leaving Bonnie and Millie alone.

* * *

**MEANWHILE - NOT FAR AWAY**

Bonnie looked around the dark room where they were held, eyes narrowed.  She didn’t quite have vampire vision, but she saw well enough with the dim rays of light leaking under the door.  Their captors had chained Bonnie and Damon down inside what looked like giant, red-brown sigils.  She sniffed to confirm--yeah, they were made out of blood.

“What are the magic circles for, Bon?” Damon asked, voice rough and low.  He was in bad shape.  They’d gotten him with vervain, something he was vulnerable to even in his more human state.  Plus, in typical Damon fashion, he’d mouthed off to their captors and gotten himself punched in the nose.  It was still swollen, blood caked from his nose to his chin.

“No idea.”  Bonnie frowned.  There was something familiar about them, though…she searched the room one more time, trying to place it.

“My money’s on painful death.”  His head lolled around so he was staring at the ceiling.

Bonnie ignored her husband for the moment.  “We’ve been here before.”

“Yeah, babe.  We’re great pals with certain doom.”

“No, no, Damon.  We’ve been _here_ before.”  She shook her head, as if it would jostle the relevant memory loose.  “What’s the last day you remember?”

“Uh…Tuesday?”  He looked up, and winced as the moment jostled him.  Bonnie wanted to help him--give him fresh blood, heal his still-open wounds, _something_ \--but her priority right now had to be getting them out of this.  She and Damon were both awake and talking; that was good enough.  “May…ninth, yeah.”

“And it’s been at least a day, right?” Bonnie grinned as events from twenty years ago reasserted themselves in her memory.  “So that makes today May 10, 2034.  The day we come here from the prison world.”

Damon grinned at her, lopsided.  “Oh _hell_ yeah.”  Then he remembered, and groaned.  “This is going to suck for me, isn’t it.”

“Kinda sucks already,” Bonnie said dryly.  She wriggled her wrists inside the metal cuffs.  Sure, she knew their younger selves were on their way to rescue them (themselves? She never had gotten used to time-travel grammar), but she didn’t plan to meet them chained to the floor.

* * *

“Why don’t you get away from the kid, Damon?” Damon said in a mocking falsetto as he rifled through the shelves.  “Like I don’t know busywork when I hear it.”

Not that he minded having an excuse to get away from, well…everything.

He had figured out most of what was going on in the car.  Millie looked too much like Bonnie to be anything _but_ her kid.  A Bennett witch accidentally dragging her mom into the future, he could buy.  And then he’d smelled something inhuman.  There was a dead scent that lingered around vampires, a faint whiff of grave dirt; and even though Millie had a heartbeat (a little slower than normal for a kid her age) she had that smell around her.

When they’d pulled up to the boarding house, Damon had realized this was _someone’s_ idea of a joke.  He knew that as surely as he knew that the prison world had been his personal hell.

 _And look how right you were there,_ said a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his witchy best friend/pain-in-the-ass.

He found the grimoires, locked behind a metal grate in a cabinet separate from the rest of the books.  There were no locks on it, only a handprint-shaped indentation on the side of the cabinet that showed what he had to do.  Instead of opening it, Damon sat on the library tables.  He was alone in a room that _didn’t_ smell like him and Bonnie and sex, and he wanted to take advantage of that.

Him and Bonnie, married with a kid twenty years in the future.  No; more like _five_ years in the future, judging by Millie’s age.

On one hand--it wasn’t _impossible_.  There was Elena, but who knew what she had done in his absence.  She thought he was dead.

For all he knew, by the time they got back she’d have hooked up with Stefan again.

Bonnie was his best friend.  She cared about him, and there had been more than once in the prison world--hell, even before the prison world--where he’d thought there could be something between.  She had Jeremy, but things with that kid had been doomed from the start.

Even the vampire/witch hybrid shit was…well, impossible, but Damon had thought a lot of things were impossible before Bonnie did them anyway.

Objectively, this was weird as hell, but he could see it.

The problem was that the universe was never that _nice._ Not to him.  He’d left a century’s worth of blood in his wake; why would it be?  How could he settle down, after all that, and actually be _happy_?

Of course, he was still getting kidnapped in this future.  So maybe some things hadn’t changed.

Damon stared blankly at the shelf full of grimoires.  “Stop being such a fucking drama queen,” he snarled at himself finally, and slapped his hand into the indentation.

It glowed with a red, pulsating light for a second, and then the grating swung open.  Three leather-bound books sat on the shelf.  One, he recognized as Emily’s.  Another was Sheila’s.  A newer, slimmer volume leaned against the other side; he rifled through it and saw Bonnie’s looping handwriting accompanying complex diagrams and runes.

He grabbed the grimoires, closed the metal grating, and followed the sound of Bonnie’s and Millie’s voices to the kitchen.

They had a map spread out over the table; Millie glanced up as he entered, but Bonnie didn’t even move.  Instead, she focused on her knife as she made a tiny cut on the inside of her forearm.  Witchy blood splashed down onto the map, and Bonnie began to chant.

Damon leaned against the counter to watch her work.  Magic gathered around her, smelling like ozone until Damon half-expected lightning to strike them in the middle of the kitchen.

Then the trickle of blood began to move.

“Aha,” Bonnie said watching her blood trail over the map.  “See, Millie?  Just needed a little _oomph_.”

“Did you even need these?” Damon asked, indicating the grimoires in his arms.

“Nope,” said Bonnie.  She didn’t look up, but a smile spread across her face.

Damon watched her, head cocked.  It had been a long time since he had seen her smile as much as she had today.  Despite everything that was going on, the ridiculousness of the situation, the idea of them being _married_ \--she was still happy.

After all, they were out of that hellhole.  According to Millie, everything would turn out fine, because her parents had already done this and knew they were coming and blah blah blah.

It was hard to believe.  He didn’t have Bonnie’s eternal optimism.  But at least they were getting somewhere.  Damon had talked to his first non-Bonnie, non-psychopath person in months; that had to count for something.

He found his eyes flicking from Bonnie’s face to Millie’s.

 _Kids._ He hadn’t considered the idea in…well, a long time.  As a human, they had never been a priority.  Elena had brought them up, fantasized about being human together and having a _real_ family, but Damon had dismissed that idea out of hand; sharing Elena with anyone wasn’t in the plan.  Not to mention he’d be an absolutely shitty father.

But actually seeing someone who claimed to be his daughter was another thing entirely.  She looked mostly like Bonnie.  But he could see the Salvatore in her, too, not obvious but present like the shape of a stone under a layer of snow.  And, of course, in the elongated canines that flashed when she spoke or smiled.  Plus she was…kind of a badass.  Just a kid, and she was already messing with powerful magic, keeping it together in a crisis.

Damon had never thought he wanted kids.  But he did want this one.

As it turned out, he was a shitty father, he thought.  All he had done so far was snark at the kid and yell at her mom.  Maybe some things were hereditary after all.

Bonnie’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts.  “Damon, come look at this,” she said, waving him over to where she and Millie stood over the map.  Her blood had somehow not leaked all over the paper, instead pooling over a spot out in the woods, not far from the road.  “I guess they wanted to keep us close.”

“Or this Order is holding us there until someone else can pick us up,” Damon said.  “So, what now?  Do we just charge in?”

Bonnie shook her head, frowning.  “We don’t know what’s waiting for us.  Maybe one of us could scout the place out first…”

“Did we give you any useful tips?” Damon asked Millie, but the girl was already shaking her head.

“You guys didn’t even tell me it would be today,” she said.  “You said you didn’t want to mess up the loop.”

“Fantastic,” Damon muttered.  He slammed the useless grimoires down on the counter.

A folded letter fluttered out from between the pages of Emily’s grimoire and landed on the floor.  Damon snatched it.   _To us, 1994,_ it said in his handwriting.

“What’s that?” Bonnie asked.

A- _ha._ So future-him wasn’t a complete idiot; good to know.  Damon unfolded it.  “Spoilers,” he told Bonnie, and began to read.

_Hey,_

_If you’re hoping for more proof this is real, don’t bother.  We won’t have a lot of time.  Little me: get over yourself, you have some rescuing to do._

_We’re stuck in a cabin.  There are only about five people, mostly normal humans, with one witch.  He isn’t nearly as good as our Bon-Bon.  I know you’re wondering how they managed to capture us in the first place.  They had the element of surprise.  Also they shot me up with about a gallon of vervain.  But they sure as hell won’t be expecting us,_ again.

_Don’t worry about traps.  There’s an alarm set to go off if we get close enough, but we can handle that._

_Do us a favor and keep Millie out of the action._

_See you soon._

Some time while he was reading the letter, Bonnie had leaned against his side to get a better look.  Damon resisted the urge to put his arm around her shoulders, and then thought, why bother?  So he did.  She froze at the casual touch and then leaned into him.  “Looks like we’ve got a plan,” he said.

* * *

He and Bonnie piled into his old blue Camaro.  They’d left Millie at the house, despite her protests.  Damon would have done the same even without the letter to request it.  He wasn’t going to put a kid in the line of fire--especially not _his_ kid.

At first the car was silent.  Damon didn’t turn on the music--who knew what crap the 30’s would churn out?

Then Bonnie asked, “Are we okay?”

What a stupid question.  “ _We_ are fine,” Damon said.  Whatever other bullshit they were going through--she was his best friend.  Still, he glanced over at her.  “Are you?  You and the kid seemed to be getting along pretty well.”

She frowned.  “It’s a lot to deal with at once,” Bonnie said after a minute.  Damon snorted.  “I mean, you’re still in love with Elena.  I didn’t think you could think of me that way.”

“Of course I can,” Damon said, rolling his eyes.  Maybe it was stupid to say so--he wrecked everything in his life that even approached romance.  But how could Bonnie have not picked up on the UST?  Especially after four months with nothing for them to do but each other?

“ _Really._ ”  He could _hear_ her eyes roll.

“Have you seen yourself?”  He vaguely waved a hand.  Jesus, the amount of times in the last few months where he’d just wanted to pin her against the wall…  “I’m more surprised you’d put up with being married to me.”

“Face it, we’ve been acting like an old married couple since we got stuck in the prison dimension,” said Bonnie.  And then her heartbeat sped up, thundering in her chest as Bonnie herself fell silent.  She hadn’t meant to say that, Damon realized.  Or maybe had just now noticed it was true.

This…wasn’t a conversation they should be having.  Not right now.  Whatever else was happening to them, he had Elena at home and she had Jeremy.

Damon reached for the radio.

They spent the rest of the drive listening to the “Hits of the Noughties!” because that was the only thing either one of them could stand, until several minutes later they reached the place closest to where the spell led them.  Damon pulled over onto the side of the road.

He _could_ speed ahead, he thought as Bonnie got out of the car.  The cabin was only a mile or so away, and he could probably take out a few humans.  But as if she could read his mind, Bonnie glared at him.  “Don’t even think about it,” she said.  “We go together.”

That was that, then.

For thirty minutes they hiked, Bonnie muttering spells every now and then to do who-knows-what and Damon keeping an ear out for anything that could belong to this Order.  Finally, he heard it--the low murmur of voices.  He held out a hand, stopping Bonnie in her tracks, and pressed a finger to his lips before tipping his head in the right direction.

She nodded and muttered a word under her breath.  For a minute Damon didn’t think it would do anything; then he saw a barrier in front of them flare bright blue before fading.

“It’s not just an alarm, it’s a shield,” Bonnie muttered.  “We can go through it, but I can’t cast spells on the place before I’m past it.”

Damon nodded.  “So we go in, I take care of the guards and rescue us, you take care of the witch and set the place on fire, then we run away?”

“Sounds great,” said Bonnie.

“Thanks, I really worked on it.”

And with that, he dashed through the perimeter, toward the nearest heartbeat.

He caught the human guard unawares and ripped out his throat as the alarm began to wail.  Two more humans burst through the front of the cabin; one fired a crossbow bolt.  He dodged it and took them both out, one with a broken neck, the other with a hand through his chest.

No sign of the witch, yet.  His or the Order’s.

Damon dashed into the cabin, following the sound of more heartbeats.  And then he realized one was behind him.

He whirled, reaching out with a bloody hand--and realized it was Millie.

“I told you to stay at the house!”

“I didn’t listen!” she snapped, looking _way_ too pleased with herself.

“How did you even--”

“Magic,” she said simply.  “I cast a spell to make you not notice me as long as I was still.  And then I hid in the trunk.”

Damon swore.  Millie looked even more smug.

So this was definitely his kid, he decided.

There was a _whoosh_ of fire nearby.  “That’d be your mom,” he said.  “Come on, kid, if you’re here you’re going to stick with me.”

He followed the sound of two heartbeats, both slower like Millie’s, into the cabin and down a set of stairs.  They didn’t see anyone else, though he heard the sounds of a spells being cast outside; Bonnie could hold her own, he decided.

Finally he reached a door that was chain-locked and covered in sigils.  “Wait,” Millie snapped, holding out her hand.  She frowned at the door, her tongue between her teeth, and then made a slashing motion.  There was a noise like metal screeching, and then lines slashed through all the sigils, rending gouges in the wood.  “ _Now_ we can go in,” Millie said, panting.  A trickle of blood ran from her nose, and she swiped it away with her sleeve.

Damon hesitated.  “You okay?” he ventured.

“Fine.  Let’s _go._ ”

Right.  They had a job to do.  He pushed the door open.

He saw himself first, but it took a moment for him to realize that.  He looked…older.  Forties, not twenties, grey at his temples.  The blood caked from nose to chin was familiar, even if it was odd to see his own face outside of a mirror.

Then he saw Bonnie behind him.  While future-Damon was still chained to rings set in the concrete floor, Bonnie was unchained from hers and pacing within a circle of dried blood.  “Oh good, you’re here,” she said, seeming unsurprised.  “Mind breaking the circle?  I can’t do it myself without this thing backfiring and killing me.”

“About time,” muttered future-Damon, and Damon tried not to jump.  He’d thought he was passed out, but the future-Damon’s eyes opened and he followed them lazily.  He looked at Millie and sighed.  “How you holding up, baby?”

Damon could see his kid’s chin wobbling, but she set her jaw.  “I’m fine,” she said.  She closed her eyes; Damon could feel her pulling magic toward herself, and then Bonnie clucked her tongue.

“Damon,” she said, and he looked up at her at the same time her husband did.  But she was addressing him-- _younger_ him, not his future version.

God, this was getting confusing.

“Do you mind giving her a hand?” Bonnie prompted.  At his look of confusion, she said, “Millie can draw off of you.  You’ll just feel a little tired afterwards.”

Oh.  Weird, but he’d dealt with a lot of weird magic today.  He nodded.  “Magical battery, at your service,” he said, offering the girl his hand.  Millie took it repeated the slashing motion she had made on the door, and the concrete groaned as it split open just underneath Bonnie’s feet.  Damon staggered as _something_ flowed out of him into the spell, but after a minute of dizziness he recovered to see Bonnie breaking him--the future him--out of his own ring of magic.

“Can you walk?” she asked future-Damon as she unlocked his handcuffs.

He nodded and rose to his feet.  Damon had doubts about his own ability to stand, but he managed, grimacing.  “C’mon, old man, we’ve gotta go,” he said.

“Can it, youngster,” his old self snapped back.  Not his best comeback, but it was a high-stress situation, so Damon let it slide.

Since he was the only person who wasn’t fourteen or recovering from being kidnapped, Damon led the way out of the basement.  He could hear future Bonnie and Damon whispering to each other behind him, too quietly for him to make out what they were saying; anyway, he had more important things to worry about.

The sound of the magical battle had stopped outside.

If Bonnie-- _his_ Bonnie--could be hurt today, his future self would have warned him.

Right?

He kept an eye out for any potential warning signs as they made their way out of the cabin.  Finally he heard a familiar, “Damon?  Millie?”

“We’re all good,” he called back as Bonnie burst through the cabin door, just in front of them.  She looked past him at their future selves and kid, then at Damon himself, and nodded in apparent satisfaction.  Bonnie looked a little worse for wear; her shirt (his shirt, technically) was singed, and dirt and grass stains streaked her legs as if she had fallen.  But she seemed uninjured.  “Let’s go.”

“Careful,” his future self said behind them.  “There’s still another one left, somewhere.”

Damon frowned.  He couldn’t hear anything.  “You sure you’re remembering right?”

“Positive,”  future-Damon muttered darkly.  Then he jerked his head toward the doorway.  “Let’s get out of here.  Bon, you ready to torch this place?”

“Oh, yeah,” said his Bonnie--younger Bonnie--at the same time as her older self.  They looked at each other, grinning, and then their weird little group left the building.

They were only a few steps away when Damon heard it--the _twang_ of a bowstring.

He turned, just a little too late, and saw a crossbow bolt flying towards Millie.

Damon grabbed her arm, jerking the kid out of the way--

And then his future self stepped in front of the girl, the crossbow bolt sinking into his gut.

Damon snarled, lunging toward the shooter--a lone woman with a glowing ring on her finger.  That had to be why he didn’t notice her, Damon thought, but it wasn’t important.  He broke the woman’s neck in the span of a heartbeat, then dashed back to the group.

Millie was crying now; future-Bonnie was bent over her husband--over _him--_ her bleeding wrist pressed to his mouth.  Almost impatiently she reached behind her and sent a fireball hurtling towards the cabin.  It went up as if it had been doused in gasoline.

“Is he--are you--” his Bonnie started, looking sick.

Damon’s hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists.  After so long thinking he was dead, he wouldn’t have thought seeing himself hurt so badly would affect him this much.  But that didn’t mean he wanted to watch himself die.

“You’ll be fine,” said future-Bonnie.  She sounded calm, but Damon could hear her heartbeat rabbiting away.  “You don’t heal as quickly these days, and you’ve been given a lot of vervain.  I’m giving him blood, but we need to get him to the house as quickly as possible.”

“I’ll, ah--” Damon started.  Did he really _want_ to carry his own bleeding, unconscious body?

“I’ve got him,” said future Bonnie.  She scooped her husband up, bridal-style, and Damon whistled, impressed despite himself.  “Let’s go.”

* * *

Once they reached the house, Bonnie’s future self carried future-Damon up the stairs to their bedroom.  The rest of them followed, not sure what else they should be doing.

“Millie,” future-Bonnie said gently, once she’d gotten Damon settled on the bed, “why don’t you go order some delivery?”

“But--” Millie started, her eyes still red-rimmed.

Abruptly Bonnie realized that while her day had been difficult, she was at least an adult.  Millie was a young teenager who had spent at least a day trying to save her kidnapped parents, found herself with two variations on them who didn’t even know her, and then seen her dad get shot trying to save her.

“He’s going to be hungry when he wakes up,” said future-Bonnie in a calm, soothing voice.   _When,_ not _if,_ Bonnie noticed.  That was a good sign.  Then she jerked her head at the younger Damon.  “There’s blood in the fridge.  Warm some up and bring it back.”

Once they were gone, future-Bonnie breathed a sigh of relief.

“He’s really going to be okay?” Bonnie asked.

“Really.  I’ve seen him get hit with much worse than this.  Here, help me with these,” future-Bonnie said.  She pulled a knife from the nightstand and cut off the bloody remains of Damon’s shirt.  Then she handed Bonnie a roll of bandages, and together they wound them around future-Damon’s torso.  “In an hour or two, it’ll be like it never happened.”

“Do I--you--heal that quickly, too?” Bonnie asked.

“Not quite,” she said, and made a face.  “And vampire blood doesn’t work to heal either of us.  Or Millie.  Which is kind of a pain.  But we’ve made it work.”

Bonnie nodded, absorbing the information as they made sure future-Damon was bandaged up.  Past-Damon reappeared with the blood, and future-Bonnie shooed him away.  Finally it was done, and future-Bonnie went to clean up and change clothes in the adjoining bathroom.

Once she emerged, future-Bonnie said, “I’m going to go make sure the other two are doing alright.  You stay here; he’ll probably want company when he wakes up.”  

Then she left Bonnie alone with the unconscious body of her best friend.

* * *

“So, uh,” Damon began, opening yet another kitchen cabinet, “this kind of thing happen often?”

Millie was hunched over the takeout menu, phone in hand.  Apparently ordering delivery could all be done through texts or apps or something now.  After almost two hundred years Damon should have been used to the march of technology, but some things still caught him off-guard.  “Getting dinner?”

“Smartass,” he said.  No dice on cabinet number three, so he moved on to number four.  “The me getting shot thing.”

“You guys get hurt pretty often.  It’s not usually this bad, though.”  Now that her father was out of sight, Millie seemed calmer, but Damon wasn’t fooled; he’d seen her tears earlier.  Still, props for resilience.  

“What about you?”

There was a long pause.  Then Millie asked, “What are you looking for?”

The dodge was obvious, but Damon let it slide for now.  Maybe there were things about this future he didn’t want to know.  “Liquor cabinet.”  Seriously, he couldn’t have gone teetotaler in the future, kid or no.

“You guys keep it in the bedroom now,” said the kid.  He turned back just in time to see a smile flit across her face--Damon would bet anything that it had something to do with some wild teenage exploits.

Damon sighed and gave up on his search, grabbing a seat at the kitchen table across from Millie instead.  He needed a drink, but not badly enough to go back to that room.  Seeing himself _older_ was weird enough, after almost a hundred and fifty years at the same age.  Seeing himself older and _injured_ was worse.  Like some kind of vampire Christmas Carol.

Millie glanced up at him, and made a face.  “You’ve got blood on your…”  She waved a hand at him.  “Everywhere.”

Oh.  Right.  Damon wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and rust-colored flakes came off onto the fabric.  “Sorry, kid.  Ripping out throats gets kinda messy.”

“I’m used to it,” she said.  

And then a wet hand towel smacked into his chest.

“We both are, but it’s still gross,” said Bonnie.

No, Damon amended.  This was _future_ Bonnie.  She had cleaned up; her hair was dry, but she smelled like soap and her clothes were different.  “You could just _ask_ ,” Damon said as he tried to clean himself up.  

Seeing Bonnie in this future was odd, too, but in a way that was reassuring rather than uncomfortable.  Damon had always had his doubts about his favorite witch ever reaching thirty.  She was just too ready to die for someone else; one of these days, it would have to stick.  But this Bonnie was healthy and whole.  And even in her forties, even just after being kidnapped, she was still gorgeous.

Bonnie brushed off Damon’s grumbling with a shrug and took a seat by Millie.  She didn’t ask if her daughter was okay; she just looped her arm around the girl’s shoulders, and Millie leaned gratefully into the touch.  “Your dad’s going to be fine,” she promised.  “I know it looks scary, but I’ve actually lived through this one.”

“I know,” said the kid.  “I’m not a _baby,_ Mom.”

“You’re _my_ baby,” insisted Bonnie, and Millie groaned.  Damon bit back a grin.  

“Babies can’t do time travel spells!”

“Yeah, about that,” Damon drawled.  “I hate to break up this whole family thing you’ve got going on, but...how did this even _happen_?  Bonnie seemed to get it, but I’m a little behind in the magic department.”

Bonnie _hmm_ ed, considering the question.  “I have a metaphor,” she said.  “It’s not a very good one, but I think it works.  So:  Imagine a hallway.  Every time and place has a door that leads out into the hallway.  With me?”

It seemed simple enough.  Damon nodded.

“When you and me--past-me--used the Ascendant to leave the prison world, that was like stepping out from your room into the hallway.  What Millie did was open _her_ door and yank you into her room.”  Bonnie shrugged.  “There’s more to it than that.  If it wasn’t May 10th here, if you hadn’t both used the Ascendant, if you both hadn’t been travelling together--it probably wouldn’t have worked.  But that’s the gist of it.  While you were between dimensions, you were vulnerable to being pulled other places, and Millie’s spell capitalized on that.”

Goddamn magic.  Damon rubbed his forehead.  “This is why I’m glad I’m not a witch.”

Millie giggled.

“ _What._ ”

“Millie told you about the spell that made us...similar, right?” Bonnie asked, smirking a little.  Had she picked that expression up from him?  That wasn’t a look he saw a lot on his Bonnie.

“I don’t like where this is going.”

“You’re a siphon now,” Bonnie said.  “Like your--like Kai.  So technically, you are a witch.”

Rubbing his eyes, Damon leaned back in his chair until it balanced on two legs.  “If you guys could stop dropping bombs on me for about two seconds, that would be _great._ ”

“You’re not a very good one, if that helps,” said Bonnie, sounding amused.

Great.  It was just _great_ that she could laugh at what was apparently an overhaul of his whole _life._ He was mortal, he was weak, he was a siphon and he wasn’t even _good_ at it.  

“Why would that help?  If I’m going to be a freak of nature, I want to be _great_ at it.  Instead I’m a shitty witch who has to have a nap any time he gets a boo-boo.”  He narrowed his eyes at Bonnie, who still had that same smirk on her face.  Had she picked that up from him?  “What happened to you?  Don’t tell me you’re a siphon, too.”

“No, just a regular witch.”  She shrugged.  “I’m a little stronger and faster than your average witch, and I heal a bit better.  But I don’t drink blood and I don’t have your sun allergy.”

“Feels like I got the short end of the stick, here,” muttered Damon.  

“Someone had to.  That’s magic for you.”   He didn’t know what his face looked like, but Bonnie’s expression softened in response.  “Look, I know this is a lot.  We’ve had years to come to terms with it; I guess I didn’t realize what a shock it would be for you to find out.”

“No, I’ll...I’ll deal.”  Damon shrugged.  This was no time for him to feel sorry for himself.  This future--if it _was_ his future--was already miles ahead of anything he could have expected.  He could deal with a little mortality thrown into the mix.  Still...he glanced at Millie.  “I wanted to ask you a few things.  In private.”

He didn’t mind the kid, but he couldn’t stop being _aware_ of her.  Bonnie was his best friend, twenty years older or not, but the kid was an unknown factor.  She seemed to get that.  “Millie, why don’t you…”

“Go away?”  She pulled away from her mom and gave a mock-salute.  “I’ll be in the library.”

“She’s eavesdropping, isn’t she?” Damon asked once the kid was out of sight.  He had heard her go up to her room--or _a_ room, at least--but he wouldn’t put it past her to magically bug them or something.

Bonnie shook her head.  “No.  She knows she’s pushed her luck for today.”  She leaned forward, closing some of the distance between them.  Damon’s eyes caught on the two platinum bands on her left ring finger; he had to make himself look away.  “What do you want to know?”

Where to even start…  “How did this-- _us_ \--happen?”

Bonnie frowned.  “You know I can’t give you all the details, right?  Even if I did tell you everything that happened, you would do something different to prove me wrong.”

That...did sound like him.  “Okay, fine.  But throw me a bone here, Bon.”  He gestured around the kitchen.  “You have to know that this is unbelievable.  I mean...”  Damon ran a hand through his hair.  “Do we even have a _choice_ after this?”

It wasn’t as if he was a stranger to running his life according to whoever he was in love with.  Or...attempting to do that, anyway.  It wasn’t even particularly strange to think of doing that for Bonnie.  He _did_ love her, had for a long time, with or without romance thrown into the mix.

But even though he hadn’t asked to fall in love with Elena or Katherine, but he had chosen to pursue him.  Damon had chosen to get closer to Bonnie, sure, but they had always toed the line when it came to anything romantic.  He even kept flirting to a minimum, if only to avoid having his brain set on fire.  

Future-Bonnie tilted her head and chewed on her lip.  “I get it.  I do.  Little-me is upstairs asking you pretty much the same thing.  So...what you feel for Elena now, and what little-me feels for Jeremy, I’m not going to act like that just vanishes.  It shouldn’t.  This trip didn’t magically make me fall in love with you.  But it...made me aware of the possibility.”  Bonnie shrugged.  “Neither of us have the best romantic track records, right?  We don’t know what love is like when it doesn’t wreck us.  But it doesn’t have to be that way.  If I hadn’t come here twenty years ago, I don’t think I would have realized that.”

_We don’t know what love is like when it doesn’t wreck us._

He wanted to argue, but...wasn’t that the story of his life?  Love for Katherine, for Elena--hell, even for Stefan--had him running himself into the ground.  And Bonnie’s love for her friends had her pushing herself to her limits.  To her death.  

“I know it’s heavy,” said Bonnie.  “But you asked.”

Damon took a deep breath.  “So, the future,” he said abruptly.  “Is there anything in the next twenty years I should know about?”

She looked amused at his unsubtle subject change, but didn’t push.  “No.”

“...Seriously?”  He rolled his eyes.  “Don’t tell me I get back and everything’s perfect from here on out.  Not with how many times one of us has died in the last few years.”

“Oh, it’s definitely not _perfect._ Sometimes things are terrible, but we deal with them like we always have.”  Damon raised an eyebrow.  Bonnie sighed.  “If I promise no one important to you has permanently died, will you believe me?”

It was a good dodge.  There weren’t many people who were important to Damon.  But there were a lot who were important to _Bonnie_ \--people she would happily sacrifice a timeline for, if it meant saving them.  

“Fine,” Damon agreed.  

Someone knocked on the door, and Bonnie jumped to her feet.  “Dinner’s here.”  Then she grinned.  “Why don’t you go tell past-me?”

* * *

Her future self wasn’t subtle at all, Bonnie thought.  But then, maybe she didn’t need to be.  It wasn’t as if either she or Damon had put up much of a fight.  Being around her older self was disorienting.  The similarities made the small but obvious differences--the ring on her finger, the cut of her hair, the years written in lines on her skin--that much more jarring.

This version of Damon was even weirder to look at.  There was gray in his hair, laugh lines at the corners of his eyes; his skin had lost that vampire chalkiness.  But at least seeing him didn’t feel like looking in a funhouse mirror.

And then, of course, there was the wedding ring.  He wasn’t wearing it now.  Her older self had put it on the nightstand along with his daylight ring.  Did he still need protection from sunlight?  Or did he just wear it out of habit?

She picked up the wedding ring and examined it.  It was cool and solid in her hand--just a plain platinum band, no inscription.  A small spell prickled her skin, though she couldn’t tell what it was.  Bonnie had probably done it herself.  Or she would do it herself, someday.  Like she’d eventually slip it onto Damon’s finger.

Her _husband._ She’d known that, of course, since Millie had told her what was going on--but it was one thing to look at her friend and know that this was coming, and another to sit next to the man who had, in his timeline, been married to her for over a decade.

“Take a picture.  It’ll last longer,” said Damon.  Bonnie looked up, startled, her fingers closing around the ring.  “Or…don’t, actually.  Probably isn’t a good idea to have pictures from the future.”

“Sorry,” Bonnie blurted out, and hastily set the ring on Damon’s nightstand.  Her nightstand?  Whatever.  Oh, God, she was sitting next to the bed that Damon shared _with her._  They had probably had _sex_ there, feet from where she was sitting.  She shoved the thought away into a dark corner of her brain, somewhere she could come back to later.  “I shouldn’t be messing with your stuff.”

And now she was _apologizing_ to _Damon_.  That was new.

“It’s fine.”  She looked up and saw Damon smirking.  That, at least, was still familiar, despite his new laugh lines.  He pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing as it jostled his wounds; Bonnie knew they were healing much faster than a human’s would, but it was still odd to see Damon actually suffering from an injury.  He grabbed the mug of blood from the nightstand.  “Weird day, huh?” he asked between sips.

Bonnie laughed despite herself.  “Kinda.  Not every day I see all…this.”  She waved a hand in his general direction.  Too late she realized how that could be taken, given his current shirtlessness.

“Just say the word, Bon-Bon, and I’ll show you a lot more,” Damon said, smirk widening to a grin.

She blinked.  Damon was _flirting_ with her.  That was…okay, not exactly new, but he was never so explicit about it.  Another reminder that this wasn’t her Damon.  “You’re married.”

“To _you_.  If I can’t hit on my future wife…”  He shrugged.

“Don’t,” said Bonnie.  “This is weird enough.”

Damon shrugged again.  “Suit yourself.”  He took another long swig of blood, and Bonnie tried not to notice the way his throat moved when he swallowed.  Or how, even when he was physically in his forties, he was still in…very good shape.

He had a gaping gut wound.  Even if it was covered by bandages, he really shouldn’t look this good.

“So, I assume you’ve got some questions rattling around in there,” said Damon, once he’d finished drinking.  “Like, how did this happen, is this all predetermined, does free will exist, why would you end up with a monster--that kind of thing.”

Bonnie frowned, her nose wrinkling. He wasn’t that far off, but… “I don’t think you’re a monster,” she said.  Damon’s mouth quirked into something more genuine, and she grinned back.  “An enormous dick, sure, but not a monster.”  It had been a long time since Bonnie had thought of Damon like that.  Her future husband should know that already, right?

To her surprise, he didn’t make the obvious dick joke.  Instead he said, “Maybe tell me-- _your_ me--that sometime.”

Oh.  Huh.  Bonnie also filed that away under “things to think about later”.  It was much easier to sit here and talk with this Damon than to consider what talking to her Damon again would be like, once they were out of here.

“Okay, fine.”  She bit her lip and looked away from him.  “How _did_ it happen?  Us, Millie, you being part human…all of it.”

Damon shrugged.  “You know I can’t tell you everything.  We can’t have you stepping on any butterflies.”

“Then tell me what you can,” Bonnie said, rolling her eyes.

“A while after you get back, you’re cursed.  It ties your life to someone else’s in a way that would…hurt you both, let’s say.  The only way to break the curse is to tie your life to another person’s in a slightly less terrible fashion.  I stepped up to the plate.  There were a few side effects.  Millie was one of them.  Mortality was another.”  He shrugged again.

“Did you…did you know?  Going in?”

“Not for sure,” Damon said.  “You get cursed a lot.  But I guessed, and I still went through with it.”

Bonnie stared at her hands.  He was weaker now, mortal, for _her._ She knew Damon missed being a human; they had even floated the idea of getting the cure while they were in the hell dimension, only to dismiss it because they didn’t know what else they would have to deal with.  Still, that was a lot to give up.

“Hey.” Damon’s hand covered hers; Bonnie reflexively took it, linking their fingers together.  “It was worth it.  You’ve always been worth it.”

Her face felt hot.  “How did you--”

“Bon, we’re married.   I know how your brain works.”  He tugged her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.  Her fingers twitched.  She half wanted to pull away from him, and half wanted to climb on the bed with him.  Damon was, she’d discovered during their months in hell, an excellent cuddler.  “Besides, you already told me how this conversation went.  Not word-for-word, but I got the highlights.”

She huffed out a frustrated breath.  Because _that_ was what she kept coming around to--the fact that, to their future selves, this had already happened.  They were, in some ways, _inevitable._ Bonnie didn’t like inevitable.  She liked choices, and loopholes, and ways around the rules.  Sure, this future looked good.  She was happy, even if her husband was her best friend’s ex.  But…

“I don’t trust this,” she said.  Bonnie wasn’t thinking about the words; there were so many sentences she wanted to begin, a slurry of hope and fear and dread and happiness whirling in her brain, that she just opened her mouth and let them fall out.  “If we know going into it that this is all going to happen, how is it real?  How are _we_ real?”  She squeezed Damon’s hand, trying to get across what she meant.

He grinned wryly.  “I’m down in the kitchen with you asking the same thing, you know,” he said, and leaned back to stare at the ceiling.  It took Bonnie a moment to piece together what he meant.  “For one thing, I’m not actually telling you how we get together.  It’s more fun if you see for yourself.  You have to work through the rest on your own.”  He shrugged.  “I could tell you that even if we’d never seen this, we’d still fall in love and get married and it would all play out the same way, but I don’t know if that’s true.  Maybe if we never went to the future, I would have tried to make it work with Elena and run that into the ground, or you would have gotten back with Jeremy or hooked up with Enzo or some bullshit like that.  I really don’t know.”

He took a deep breath.  “But I love you, Bonnie Bennett.  How we got here doesn’t matter.  I love you, and you love me--that’s real.”

Bonnie stared at him.  She could feel her face growing warm and her heart pounding.  Damon stared back, head tilted, utterly unembarrassed.  Then he shrugged, breaking the moment, and released her hand.  “Or future you loves me, anyway.  Right now, I’m good with plain old _like_ from you.”

Only, _like_ didn’t describe her feelings for Damon right now.  Damon had stopped being her enemy a long time ago.  Now he was her partner, her best friend--someone she trusted implicitly.  Someone she knew better than a lot of people, his girlfriend included.

Hell, Bonnie had died for Jeremy--but she was pretty sure she cared more about Damon than she did about him.

 _Like_ didn’t cut it.  Love?  She wasn’t so sure.  Yet.

But she was sure that future Damon wasn’t getting any of that out of her.  She stayed silent and let him talk.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Damon continued, “I’ve had a thing for you since…that dance, at least.  I actually did care.  By the time we got to the prison world, if you had made a move then, I wouldn’t have said no.  So it’s not like _everything_ starts because of this little field trip.”

“Wait.  You _what_ ?  If you were into me for _that_ long, why didn’t you say something?  Why go after Elena?” Bonnie snapped.  God, she still remembered that dance, too--knew exactly the moment he was talking about, the cool press of his body against hers as she said the words.

Damon said, “Because I’m an idiot?  Because I wanted to beat Stefan at something?  Because you were brave and gorgeous and you--God, Bon,” he laughed, “you hated my guts.  You wanted me to be better than I was, and I couldn’t deal with that.  Elena never pushed me.  She just told me I was good because I loved her.”

Despite herself, Bonnie chuckled, too.  “I’m glad you finally noticed that.”  There had been so many conversations with Caroline where they analyzed Damon, away from Elena since they knew she would just leap to his defense.  She had tried to be a supportive friend, but everyone could see the two of them were unhealthy.  After a second, though, her laughter faded.  “What about you?   _My_ you, I mean.  What does he want?”

He tilted his head, considering.  Bonnie wondered how much of this day he actually remembered from his first time around.  Obviously not enough to keep himself from being kidnapped.  “I think you should ask him about that,” said Damon.

She glared at him, eyebrow raised, and waited.  Finally, surrendering, he lifted his hands in the air.

“Fine, you broke me.  You get one free insight into little-me’s brain.  That guy wants to be your best friend, but he’s been thinking about being a little more than that, too.  Problem is, he’s fucked up a lot of things for Elena.  He’s built a lot of who he is right now on her, and he’s not ready for that to come crashing down yet.  Once you guys get into Mystic Falls…it’ll get more complicated.  Or a little less complicated, depending on how you look at it.”

“Because _that’s_ not cryptic at all,” grumbled Bonnie.

Damon patted her knee patronizingly.  “Like I said.  It’s more fun to figure it out on your own.”

Bonnie sighed, but she knew he was right.  She was lucky she got this much, she figured.  It was kind of nice to know that Damon turned out to be more self-aware, too. This Damon, Bonnie thought, had done more growing in the past twenty years than in the century before that.

How much of that, she wondered, was her influence?  And how stuck-up was she for wondering that?

“But enough about me,” said Damon.  “How are you feeling?  It’s not like you to keep your mouth shut.”  What his younger self would have said with a roll of his eyes, this Damon said with a light tone that took the sting out of the words--teasing, not taunting.

Bonnie opened her mouth, considered, and closed it again.  Then she said, “I really don’t know.”

“C’mon, Bon, that’s a cop-out.”

She shook her head.  “I _don’t._  This has been a lot.  It’s not just you, you know.  Being married to you is definitely _part_ of the weirdness, but I can wrap my head around it.  But Millie…she’s an incredible kid.  And I have no _idea_ how to be someone’s mother.”

Damon snorted.  “You said it yourself--she’s incredible.  You think _I_ could turn out a kid like that?”

He had a point.

“I know you’ve got mommy issues.  Hell, I caused some of them.  But you don’t ever have to worry about being a good mother.  Yeah, we make some mistakes--but I think she’s turning out alright.”

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and squeezed Damon’s hand before opening her eyes again.  He had that soft look on his face, the one she had almost never seen before today.  “Thanks,” she said, ignoring the way her stomach flipped over when she met his eyes.  “I needed to hear that.”

“I know,” said Damon.  His eyes darted away from hers, and the faintest hint of a smile appeared in the corner of his mouth.  Then, suddenly, he tugged her forward, pulling her lips to his.

Bonnie stared at the curve of Damon’s cheekbone, too surprised to even close her eyes--this was a _stupid_ idea and how _dare_ he do this without even warning her.  His mouth was soft and surprisingly warm; that was all she had time to notice before the door opened.

“Future-you said to tell you that dinner’s--oh.”

She had jumped back as soon as she heard the door open, but obviously she hadn’t been quick enough.  Her Damon’s eyes were wide with surprise, but he quickly schooled his expression into an unimpressed scowl, directed at his future self.  Bonnie looked away from her Damon--she didn’t need to see his judgmental glare directed at _her,_ thanks--and back at future-Damon, who was grinning smugly at his past self.

“Dinner sounds great,” Bonnie chirped, jumping out of her chair and pushing past the Damon in the doorway.

“Save me some egg rolls!” she heard future-Damon call, before the door slammed.

There was a _whoosh_ of air as Damon caught up to her on the stairs.  “So,” he said.

Shit.  Her face still felt hot; he could probably hear her heart beating faster, too.  Bonnie took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.  “Shut up.”

“You two looked…cozy.”

“He-- _you--_ started it,” Bonnie snapped, still not looking at him.

Damon made an exasperated noise.  “Yeah, I guess I would.”

She didn’t bother to ask what that was supposed to mean, and, thankfully, he let it drop as they reached the kitchen.

Sure enough, there were piles of Chinese takeout on the counter.  Bonnie didn’t know when Mystic Falls had gotten a takeout place, but she didn’t care; it smelled incredible.  Her stomach growled as she inhaled.

They fixed their plates, future-Bonnie talking to Millie and trying to get a conversation going, but Bonnie was too wrapped up in her own head to pay much attention.  Occasionally Damon interjected, trying to get some fact about the future out of the two of them, but future-Bonnie brushed off all his leading questions.

Finally future-Bonnie gave up.  “You guys just want to get home, don’t you,” she said.

“Actually, yeah,” admitted Bonnie.  Maybe she should want to stay longer, but the more she stayed in this future with nothing to do, the more disoriented she felt.  When there was a rescue mission to deal with, she could focus on something important.  Now she had nothing to do but think about what would happen when they got home--something she was simultaneously dreading and hoping.  The result was a pit of nervous energy burning in her stomach.

“I’ve had the spell ready for years,” her past self said simply.  “You guys can go whenever you want.  It’s just going to be crazy in Mystic Falls; I thought you might like a little bit of peace.”

“We’ve been stuck in the most boring town in the world for four months,” Damon pouted, twirling noodles around his chopsticks.  “I’m ready to get back to my actual life.”

“Suit yourself,” said future-Bonnie with a shrug.  “We’ll send you back after dinner.  You-- _my_ you--should be pretty much healed by then.  He’ll want to see you off.”

“Can I go?” Millie asked.

“Nope,” future-Bonnie said firmly.  “You’re grounded.  You _know_ better than to follow us into a dangerous situation like that, baby.  So you’re not going anywhere but school or the house for the next two weeks.”

“But I’d be with you guys!”

“You were with us at the cabin, too,” said future-Bonnie, and Millie winced, looking guiltily down at the plate.

Bonnie frowned and bit her lip.  It seemed kind of harsh, but…her older self probably knew more about being a mom than she did, right?  Besides, it looked like life hadn’t been kind to them on the mystical danger front.  Just because she had been on the front lines as a teenager didn’t mean all kids should have to deal with those issues.

“Hardass,” Damon stage-whispered, and shared a grin with his kid.  

Future-Bonnie rolled her eyes.  “I swear you haven’t changed at all,” she said, and Bonnie smiled.  She knew her fond tone of voice when she heard it.

After dinner, future-Bonnie went upstairs to make sure her husband was alright to travel while Bonnie, Damon, and Millie cleaned up the leftovers.

“Sorry I snapped at you earlier,” Damon said abruptly.  Bonnie glanced up, but his eyes were on Millie.  Damon apologizing?  Unprompted?  This day just kept getting more unbelievable.

Millie shrugged, apparently unhurt.  “It’s fine.  Dad always said he was an even bigger dick when he was younger, and now I know he wasn’t lying.”

Damon pressed a hand to his chest in mock-hurt.  “I’m pretty sure kids aren’t allowed to call their parents dicks.”

“I am,” said Millie cheerfully.  Then she ducked her head.  “You guys are still pretty cool, though.  So, thanks.  I know today’s been a lot to deal with, and it was mostly my fault.”

“Hey.”  Bonnie didn’t think, just took her daughter’s hand and squeezed.  “I’m glad you brought us here.  Yeah, it’s been a lot, but--we got to meet you.”

Millie rolled her eyes at the cheesiness, but Bonnie could see the smile she fought to hide.  “Thanks, Mom.”

And _that_ was the last straw.  Bonnie pulled her daughter into a hug, the kind she never got from her mother and only rarely got from her father.  Millie returned it casually--as if she didn’t realize how weird it was for Bonnie.  

No matter what happened, her daughter wasn’t surprised by affection.  That was something.

“You think you can talk yourself out of grounding me?” Millie wheedled after a minute, and Bonnie laughed, breaking away.

“Not a chance,” she said, and Millie groaned.

A few minutes later, the future versions of Bonnie and Damon came down the stairs.  Damon was dressed in sweatpants and a loose t-shirt; he looked much better even in the short time since Bonnie had seen him.

“Ready to go?” he asked, rubbing his hands together.

“Back to the woods?” asked Bonnie.

Her future self nodded.  “As close as we can get to where you first appeared.”

They took the car as far as they could and then walked to the place where Bonnie and Damon had appeared that morning.  Millie’s spell was still set up there; the colored sand had blown out of its circle, and the bowl of incense was overturned.

“You sure you can’t stay longer?” the future Damon asked his present self.  His eyes were doing that buggy thing, where he was trying to be sexy but instead just looked like he was about to start taking axes to hotel doors.  Good to know some things never changed.  “We’ve got two Bonnies.  Think of the possibilities.”  And just in case that was too subtle, he wiggled his eyebrows, driving the point home.

“ _Gross_ ,” Bonnie yelped, and elbowed the Damon closest to her-- _her_ Damon.

“I didn’t even say anything!” he protested, rubbing his side, and glared.  Then he glanced at his future self…and, more disturbingly, gave himself a very obvious once-over.  “But two Bonnies does sound interesting.  And I’m still pretty hot, so…”

“Oh my God,” said Bonnie.

Her future self looked at her, then at both versions of her husband.  A smile spread across her face.  “What’s the problem?  It sounds fun to me.”

The smirk disappeared from present-Damon’s face like he’d been slapped.  His gaze darted from future Bonnie to her younger incarnation.  Future Damon just grinned.

Bonnie didn’t know whether she wanted to disappear into a hole in the ground or set everyone on fire.  “ _Really_ ?” she hissed at her future self.  She didn’t deserve that knowing look--she’d had some weird fantasies before, sure, but this _definitely_ wasn’t one of them.

Her Damon’s head tilted.  “Didn’t know you had it in you, Bon-Bon,” he said, voice almost a purr.

“I _don’t_ ,” she snapped, and then to her future self, “send us home already.”

“Your loss,” said the future Bonnie, amused.  She pulled the Ascendant from her pocket and bit into her own wrist with inhumanly sharp teeth, then let blood drip from the fresh punctures onto the Ascendant.  She handed the device to Bonnie and Damon.  “This isn’t much different from using it normally,” she told Bonnie.  “You two aren’t even supposed to be in this timeline; we’re just putting you back where you need to be.  Restoring the balance.”

That made some kind of sense, Bonnie decided.  As much as magic ever did.  She gripped the Ascendant, her fingers slippery with her future self’s blood.  Damon’s hands were cool and solid under hers.

Her future self started the chant that would take them away from this time, back to their own.

Bonnie looked up at Damon.  It had been less than twelve hours since they had arrived here, standing just like this.  “Long day, huh?” she asked.

Damon nodded.  “Ready to be home, Bonnie?  For real, this time.  No more parallel universes or futures.”

“This one wasn’t so bad,” Bonnie said.

She wanted to add caveats: _even if I was married to you, even if this is our future._ But they would be lies.  There was no _even if_ about it.

Bonnie just smiled up at him, and Damon smiled back.  And then the magic washed over them, carrying the two away on its current.

They landed in the forest again.

After their last landing, it was strangely anticlimactic.  This was the forest Bonnie knew.  They weren’t in the middle of May anymore, that much was obvious; leaves were yellowing and falling off the trees, and the air had a chilly bite to it.  But she could feel it as surely as she could feel her own magic.  This was their Mystic Falls.

“No pint-sized witches in sight,” said Damon, glancing around, “besides the obvious.  I think we’re finally home, Bon.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Bonnie said absently, and pocketed the Ascendant.  Even without their hands joined, she and Damon were standing closer than was probably normal, but she didn’t mind.  She pulled her flannel sleeves down to her wrists.  “You ready to see everyone?”

Ready to see Elena, she meant, and she could tell Damon heard that.  He frowned.  “I think so.  Just…one thing before we go.”

Damon didn’t move, just reached up to touch Bonnie’s collar.  She bit her lip, holding back a shiver.  “What?”

Damon’s hand moved to cup her jaw.  He bent over her, forehead brushing hers, and Bonnie realized he was going to kiss her.

But he didn’t.  Just looked at her, hesitating, his lips so close she could feel his breaths.  Waiting, she realized, for her.

Bonnie’s eyes flitted from Damon’s eyes to his mouth and then back.  She nodded.

And then Damon’s mouth was on hers, one large hand cupping her face, the other around her waist, pulling her against him.  Her hands flitted up to his chest; she grabbed handfuls of his shirt, pulling him as close as she could manage, while his mouth pressed against hers.  Her heart pounded so loud she could hear it.  This was Damon, Damon’s tongue flicking against hers, Damon’s fingers splayed across the small of her back, Damon’s belt buckle pressed against her stomach, her best friend Damon _kissing_ her--

And then he wasn’t.  Damon drew back, just enough to break the kiss.  Bonnie chased after his mouth unthinkingly, a quick, soft press of her lips to his, and Damon chuckled.

Then Bonnie realized what she was doing: making out with Damon Salvatore, _again._

“What was that?” Bonnie asked.  Her voice came out hoarser than she meant it to.  He was still holding her against him.

“Just…didn’t seem fair that he got to kiss you and I didn’t,” Damon said.

Bonnie blinked.  The interaction between the two Damons earlier made a lot of sense now.  “You’re jealous.  You’re jealous of _yourself._ ”  Bonnie shook her head, grinning.  “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Didn’t hear you complaining,” said Damon.  And then he kissed her on the nose, and let her go.

Stupid vampire.  He shouldn’t be able to make her feel like she had a high school crush again.

High school crush.   _Shit.  Jeremy._

_Elena._

“Damon, what are we going to do when we get home?” she blurted out.

Damon cocked his head, considering.  “I don’t know,” he admitted, and then he offered her his arm.  She rested a hand in the crook of his elbow.  “But I think we’ll figure it out.”

* * *

**MEANWHILE - TWENTY YEARS LATER**

Damon slipped his hand into his wife’s as they walked in comfortable silence back to the house.

“You know what this means?” he said as they reached the front door.

“We didn’t accidentally create a time paradox?”

He shook his head and impulsively leaned over to kiss Bonnie’s hair.  Being chained up so far away from his wife was _not_ fun; if he never had to go through that again, he’d be happy.  “We don’t know what’s coming next.”

Bonnie looked up at him, confused.

“Ever since that happened to us, we’ve known this future was out there.  We’d be okay until 2034.  And now we don’t have that.  Whatever happens now…we’ve got no clue how it’ll turn out.”

Bonnie bit her lip.  Then she smiled and shook her head.  “So we’re just like everyone else again, you mean.”

Damon bared needle-sharp teeth in a grin.  “I wouldn’t say _just_ like everyone else.”  Bonnie elbowed him.  “Or that it’s a bad thing.  On the other hand…if someone from 2054 wants to pop in, I wouldn’t be upset.”

He looked around at the quiet driveway, half-expecting…something.  But no more time-travellers appeared.  Damon shrugged.  “Guess we’re going in blind, then,” he said.

“We’ll figure it out,” Bonnie said.

She probably didn’t remember his exact words from two decades ago, but Damon did.  “We will,” he agreed, and opened the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and criticism are <3.
> 
>  **EDIT [8/26]** : SOOO as I was rereading, I noticed something. The Order of Taraka is not actually something I made up. I swiped the name from _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. In that show, they're a group of assassins and bounty hunters who work alone, not like the more cohesive but less capable group I portrayed here.
> 
> If I remember right, I just couldn't think of a suitable name for the guys who kidnapped D&B, so I stole from BtVS. I'd edit but it's already up so...¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also after rereading, I decided to fix a few inconsistencies that I missed when posting (that happens when you write scenes out of order over the course of a year) and flesh out Damon's scene with future-Bonnie. I dropped that one in like ten minutes before posting, so it was more bare-bones than the rest, IMO. Hope y'all like it.


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